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“Fat Joe!”
“Miss Piggy!”
“Fat back!”
“Damn, you’re unoriginal!”
“And you were a fat ass!”
“The women loved my fat ass, though.”
“Nah, it was the eyes. Those damn gray eyes—shit. Wait…” Her voice trailed off.
Now this was awkward, so to let her off the hook, I quipped, “Nah, sis, it wasn’t the eyes. It was my—”
“Vann King London, if you say something about that Vienna sausage between your legs, I am going to throw up!” she shrieked.
“More like a smoked sausage. One of those they have to coil up to fit in the package.”
“I fucking hate you,” she hissed. She stared at me and then we both busted out laughing. She fell into me, and I hugged her tightly,
“I love your nagging ass,” I said, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you, too, and I’m so glad you’re well.”
“Me too.”
BROOKLYN
For once, I didn’t feel like a fifth wheel around my friends and their men. But I guess that was how they felt before the roles reversed, and I went from being the only married friend in our trio to the only single one. Anyway, Sharla’s big brother Vann was there. I’d forgotten he was visiting her but was glad to see he was healthier. Sharla had been so worried about him when he first received the cancer diagnosis, but he looked good. He’d lost some weight, but that was understandable.
Bailey was at her dad’s, and I must admit it was nice having some grown up time. And the food? It was one hell of a spread. Lobster tails, crab legs, shrimp skewers, T-bone steaks, seafood Mac and cheese, veggie trays, fruit trays, a cheese board, red velvet cupcakes, and just about every alcoholic beverage on the market.
I was stuffed and feeling right when Sharla broke out a pack of cards for the 1990s edition of some music game, but I was down to play.
“I’ll go first!” Sharla announced. She was standing in the middle of the floor in their massive family room. The rest of us were sitting or barely sitting on parts of the huge sectional or the floor. I think most of us were just glad to be kid free for a few hours. “Your clue is: a one hit wonder with a horrible video.”
“Oh hell no, baby! I could name fifty!” Jovani said.
She rolled her eyes and stumbled a little although she was standing still. Yeah, she wasdrunkdrunk. “Okaaaaay. Green screen scenes correlating with the lyrics.”
“Az Yet!Last Night!” Nadia yelled.
“Ding, ding, ding!” Sharla chimed, passing the cards to Nadia. “Your turn!”
“Wait a minute! Them dudes had more than one hit! Who made this game? Some haters?” Vann shouted.
“They had another hit?” Nathan, Nadia’s husband asked, looking and sounding genuinely perplexed. “What’s the name of the second one?”
“Uhhhh,” Vann said.
“Exactly! Go ahead, Noddy,” Sharla sassed.
Vann threw up his middle finger at her and I laughed.
“The best song by the greatest rapper of all time!” Nadia read off of a card.
A heated debate ensued—Biggie vs. 2Pac—and I took that moment to hit the toilet. I’d done my business and was making my way back to the family room when I bumped into a tall body. In that house and at that moment, it could’ve been anyone, but it wasn’t. It was Vann London, and his proximity made my nerves stand on edge even after all the time that had passed.
